The Melting Man rc-4 Read online

  'Yes.'

  'Why come to me then?'

  I shrugged my shoulders. 'You're slow, boyo. Bejabbers, you're slow, slower than an old bog donkey with a load of peat.'

  He didn't like it, and I was happy. I went on, 'I want to take you. I want to show you that there's somebody around who can make you look like a shagged-out carnival giant. That's what you like doing to people, isn't it? Rubbing their noses in it. Well, that goes for me, too.'

  Slowly, he said, 'I'm promising myself the pleasure of killing you inch by inch one day.'

  'And there's another thing,' I said, ignoring him. 'I want you to have it. The moment you have, I'm getting on to my stockbroker to buy me a fat slice of snares in United Africa Enterprises. I should make a healthy profit from that when you begin to operate the monopoly you will get when Gonwalla goes.'

  For a moment he screwed up his face, as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. He said, 'You're just like all the rest. You hate my guts because I'm a millionaire, but all the same you'd like to be one. But remember this, Carver, whatever happens — I'll get you. You'll wish that you'd never been born.'

  'We'll see,' I said. 'If I make enough money I might even have my own waxworks. I can think of a lot of people I'd like to have in it.'

  I looked slowly around at the assembled company. Yes, I could think of a lot of people for my own collection. I finished up with my eyes on the steel doors. Kermode had left them open. When he came back he would be sure to shut them, so that if I were bluffing I couldn't make a quick departure. I wanted to see how the doors were operated. I wondered just how fast and how accurate I could be with the compressed-air pistol. As far as I could remember from sessions with Miggs, this type of pistol usually grouped at under three-quarters of an inch at twenty-five feet. It ought to do the job I had in mind.

  From outside, far down the gallery, I heard the sound of footsteps on the" marble. Kermode was returning.

  I glanced at O'Dowda, and said, 'Remember, no bargaining. Five thousand plus my fees and expenses, and I'll need it in cash at the handover.'

  He said nothing. His big head was lowered, bull-like, and he was watching me and the door behind me. I screwed round a little to keep the door in view. Just behind me a dowager-type with a little coronet perched on straw-coloured hair stared blankly towards the big wax figure of King O'Dowda on the raised dais.

  Kermode came into view in the gallery, hugging my parcel to his chest. He came through the door, went to the right of it, raised his hand and pushed one of the two white knobs that were let into the wall — one for opening and one for shutting the door. He had pressed the one nearest the door. I would have to press the one farthest from the door to open it.

  The doors slid across, and Kermode came up the room, past me and heading for O'Dowda. I knew the exact moment I wanted. It would be when Kermode handed the parcel over to O'Dowda for him to open and O'Dowda handed him the gun to keep me covered. I would have to shoot fast and move fast. I dropped my right hand low, just touching the inside of my left leg, feeling gently for the wide trouser turn-up so that I could get at the pistol.

  Kermode stopped at the table by O'Dowda. O'Dowda ignored him and looked at me, gun in his hand still.

  He said, 'Feeling nervous, boyo? You think I don't know you? You're playing a bluff right up to the last moment, hoping to get some advantage. I could even like you for it. You've got guts, all right. You sit there, smiling, but you're sweating inside.'

  I said, 'You're the one who's nervous. You know you've been out-smarted, but you don't want to face the moment. Go on, open it. I want to see your face as you do.'

  O'Dowda tapped the table for Kermode to put the parcel down. As he did so, O'Dowda handed him the gun.

  'Keep that Anglo-Saxon bastard covered,' he said.

  He was too late. As the gun rested between their two hands, butt towards Kermode, I jerked out the pistol and began to fire as it came up from near ground level. I went for Kermode's legs, hoping to make him fall. As I pumped away I was on my feet and moving for them. My aim was something that would have made Miggs spit with contempt. I saw wood-chips fly off the far leg of the table as the slugs smacked into it, saw Kermode moving fast, swinging the gun round, and saw O'Dowda throw up a fat hand to protect his face against the flying chips, and then the god of battles — who often makes up his mind far too late to be of any help in a just cause — came up trumps for once. Still firing, I swung the pistol left to get Kermode's legs and the movement made me fire high. The lead slugs smashed into the bottles of champagne that stood on the table and they went off like bombs. Froth spouted high, spraying over O'Dowda and Kermode. Shards of glass whined through the air viciously. I saw a red streak suddenly appear down the side of Kermode's face. Despite himself, he raised his gun-hand to it and by then I was in among them. I grabbed at the gun, got it, and wrenched it round until he had to let go to save his arm from being broken. It came free in my hand and I kicked out at his feet and he went down, thudding into the table, sending glass, broken bottles and parcel flying.

  By the time they had sorted themselves out, I was standing ten yards back from them, pistol in my pocket, parcel in one hand, and their gun in the other.

  O'Dowda, who had been knocked backwards, picked himself up and stood shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. Kermode sat on the floor, face wincing with pain, grabbing at one of his legs — in the last second a couple of stray slugs must have got him. An ugly line of blood ran down his face from a glass cut.

  Suddenly O'Dowda came out of his shock. He looked at me, his face purpling and he roared, 'You bastard! By Jasus…' He started to come for me, crashing through the wreckage of the table. I fired at his feet, obliquely. The bullet hit the stone floor and ricocheted away, thudding into the stomach of the policeman effigy. It tottered and then fell to the floor.

  O'Dowda pulled up fast.

  'You come a step farther, O'Dowda,' I said, 'and I'll let you have one where the bobby just got his.'

  He teetered there, mad with frustration, and it was touch and go whether he came on. Then he saw wisdom and moved back a little and looked down at Kermode.

  'You useless sod. I told you to keep him covered.'

  Kermode didn't say anything. Buddies they might be but he still knew when not to argue with his master.

  I said, 'Don't fuss, Kermode. You can pick the pellets out with some tweezers later. Just get on your feet and sit somewhere where I can see you. And that goes for you, O'Dowda. Sit down somewhere and keep your hands in the open.'

  They did it slowly, under protest, but they did it.

  I stood there, watching them dispose of themselves, and I was feeling good. I had O'Dowda exactly where I wanted him. And I was human. I had to tell him so. It was a pity, but there it was. I just had to tell him. It would have been better if I had been magnanimous in victory and just cleared off. I should have stuck to action and left the preaching to others.

  I held up the parcel. 'You were right, O'Dowda. I was bluffing. This is the genuine article. The blue films and a nice roll of tape that's political dynamite. How do you feel, master mind? King O'Dowda outwitted by one of the palace servants. O'Dowda, with men and money at his command; O'Dowda, who, if he wants a thing a certain way, fixes it that way and no expenses spared… How does it feel to sit there now, feeling the wind going out of you?'

  I should have known better. It was schoolboy stuff. Gloating stuff. When you've got what you want, get out quick is the motto. I ought to have known that, but then, again, it wasn't often that I had a chance to cast myself for the role of boy David, or Jack the Giant-Killer, with a touch of Sir Galahad thrown in.

  I began to back to the door, covering them.

  'Know what I'm going to do with the parcel? I'm handing it over to Najib in exchange for Julia. No money, just a straight exchange. That means you'll never get a thumb in Gonwalla's pie, ever. Means, too, that I'll lose my fee from you, but it will be worth it. Oh, yes, it'll be worth it. Every time your nam
e comes up somewhere, I'll have a little chuckle to myself. I'll think of the oversized O'Dowda that I put in the hot seat to melt down to size.'

  He sat there and looked at me. He said nothing, but I knew that he was feeling a lot. Close to him Kermode, still shaken, dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. Behind them, on their tall holders the candles flickered around the giant, throned effigy of King O'Dowda, lording it over his once-rebellious subjects, over the people who had thwarted him, or tried to out-cheat him from cheating them.

  Then he said, 'One of these days, I'll get you, Carver.'

  I backed to the wall by the door. 'Oh no you won't. The moment I'm gone, you'll want to forget me. You'll make a good job of it, too. You'll bribe your memory to make it a blank. But every so often it will come back.'

  'Get the hell out of here!' He bellowed it at me.

  'Gladly, O'Dowda.'

  I tucked the parcel under my gun-arm and reached behind me for the wall knobs, found them, and pressed the one to open the door.

  Nothing happened.

  I pressed again. Still nothing happened. I pressed the other knob in case I had got them mixed up. Nothing happened.

  Stupidly, I said, 'The damned door won't open.'

  O'Dowda with a flicker of new interest said, 'That's your problem, boyo.'

  To Kermode, I said, 'These are the pushes, aren't they?'

  O'Dowda said, 'They are.'

  I tried them again. Still nothing happened Just then there was a crackle from the loudspeaker over the door, and Durnford's voice came booming into the room. He sounded in good spirits as he announced a servant's farewell to a well-hated master.

  'Be happy in there, you bastards! I'm glad to think that I shan't see any of you again. Goodbye — and the devil take you!'

  'Durnford,' I shouted.

  The loudspeaker gave a click and went dead.

  'How the hell could he do it?' I asked.

  Kermode said, 'He's pulled the main fuses from outside.'

  "The doors are inch steel. You couldn't force them, Carver. You're stuck.' O'Dowda had begun to sound happy.

  The man's mad.'

  'I'm inclined to agree. What the hell does he think this will achieve? Not that I care.' O'Dowda smiled. 'I'm just content to know that you're not away yet, Carver.'

  After victory never preach. I could have been out of the place if I had kept my mouth shut.

  I moved away from the door, covering them.

  'I'm going to be very nervous if either of you two makes a move.'

  I went slowly round the room. All the windows were closed barred on the outside. The glass could have been smashed but no one could ever have squeezed between the bars. Keeping the two men in view, I went up as far as the curtained throne and looked behind. There was no other door leading out of the room. I went back to the main door and sat down.

  'You were doing a lot of gabbing about master minds, Carver. Let's see you tackle this one.' O'Dowda got up and began to move towards the upturned table.

  'You sit tight,' I said.

  'You go to hell,' he said. 'You stay up there. This is our half of the room. And I'm thirsty.'

  He salvaged a bottle and a glass and poured himself some champagne and then sat on the foot of the throne under his own outsized figure.

  I said, 'Kermode. Get over to one of the windows, break it and the moment you see anyone outside give them a shout.'

  Kermode looked at O'Dowda.

  O'Dowda said, 'Do as the master mind says.'

  Kermode went over to one of the windows, jabbed a lower pane with the leg of a chair, placed the chair by the window and sat down.

  O'Dowda wrapped his loose robe tighter round himself and said, pointing, 'See that smooth city type.'

  He indicated an elderly, distinguished-looking man in pin-striped trousers and black coat; a man with a square, honest face and nicely greying hair.

  'Floated a company with him once. He was clever. Brilliant. And he got me to the point when he thought he had me on toast to the tune of thousands. He damned near did. As near as you are at this moment to doing me. Know where he is now? Doing time — eight years — for fraud. It must be bitter for him because the fraud was mine not his. I heard that his wife committed suicide. No kids, thankfully. I don't like hurt- ing children until they're over eighteen.' O'Dowda rose and came halfway up the room carrying a bottle and a spare glass. He put them on a chair. 'This may be a long wait. No reason why you shouldn't have a drink.'

  I said, 'If you come past that chair, I'll shoot.'

  O'Dowda said calmly, 'I know you will.'

  He went back to his throne and sat down. He filled his glass, raised it to me, and said, 'It'll take some time, but eventually I'll be missed and one of the servants will be up here. We'll get out — and then I'm shouting for the police, for Interpol, the whole boiling. I'm laying charges. Assault, armed robbery, the whole book. I'll make such a fuss that Interpol will have to back out because they'll be scared of the publicity. They will forget the parcel. Even they have their limits. Yes, boyo, one way and another it's you sitting in the hot seat. Ever been in a French prison? No coddling like in ours. French are the practical people. Punishment is punishment.'

  I said, 'Before that happens I'll set fire to this lot.' I tapped the parcel.

  'Yes. I see you'd do that. I'll accept that. But I'd still lay the charges. Eventually, boyo, I'll have you keeping my city friend company. Pilch his name was. Eye for the women, he had, too. Not that his wife ever knew, or she might not have committed suicide.'

  I said, 'What happens up here if you want someone, want to have something sent up?'

  'Good question,' said O'Dowda. 'And I'll be honest with you. Nothing. This is my place. When I come up here, I make sure there's everything I want here. Only two men have permission to disturb me up here, Kermode and Durnford. They use the loudspeaker. But if we sit here long enough, Kermode will spot someone from the window.'

  I stood up and walked towards the champagne.

  He grinned. 'Thought you might get round to it. If I'd known I'd have had some non-vintage stuff up here for you. Veuve Clicquot is only for friends. But this time I'll overlook it. You get a wine issue in French prisons, you know. Probably only plonk. So enjoy that while it lasts.'

  I went back and sat down, put the parcel on the floor between my feet, and opened the champagne one-handed, steadying the bottle between my knees.

  I was in a jam. I drank some champagne and tried to think. Lots of thoughts came, but none of them seemed to have much comfort to offer in the present situation. I was really in it, up to my neck. We might be stuck here for hours. All day, all night. They could take it in turns to cat-doze. They were two to one. Eventually they would get me. There was no question about that.

  I looked at my watch. We'd already been locked in for half an hour. I was feeling hot and tempted to take another glass of champagne, but I put the temptation from me. At any time O'Dowda or Kermode might try something. I couldn't afford to be fuddled.

  Maybe some such thought had occurred to O'Dowda for he raised his glass to me and beamed over the top of it.

  Across the room at the windows, Kermode kept watch on the outside world. If he did see anyone he probably would not say so, not yet, because he, too, must know that the waiting game up here was the one which would pay off for O'Dowda.

  I picked up the parcel and, with the gun in my other hand, went over to the windows and pushed a chair into place. To Kermode, I said, 'You get back with him.'

  He quit his place without a word and went over to O'Dowda. He sat down, rolled up his trouser leg and began to examine his pellet wounds. I sat at an angle, so that I could cast an eye outside from time to time and also keep the two of them in view. Outside it was a beautiful late September day, and miles away I could just glimpse a corner of the lake and a huddle of white houses shimmering in the heat haze on the far side. It was hot in the room. I ran the back of my hand across my forehead O'Dowda said, 'Finding it warm, e
h?'

  I said, 'You don't need the heating on on a day like this.'

  He shrugged his big shoulders. 'On all the time. But there's an automatic control. Constant temperature of sixty-eight. You're only feeling hot because you're worried, Carver. You don't know what to do. Things are going to be much hotter for you before we finish. Pity — because if you'd played ball with me, I could have learnt to like you and put a lot of work your way. I might even have taken you into one of my organizations and made a fortune for you. But not now… oh no! I'm going to see you fry. I'm going to have you regretting that you ever knew me.'

  I didn't answer. I sat there, enjoying the coolish air through the broken window. But for all the draught, I was still hot.

  After a while I got up and moved so that I stood above one of the grids that covered the underfloor heating. Warm air was flooding up through it. For my money, it was a damned sight more than sixty-eight in the room. Something must have gone wrong with the thermostat. I went back to the window.

  It grew hotter. There wasn't any doubt about it.

  O'Dowda had noticed it too. He loosened the front of his oriental gown and said, 'What's that thermometer say?' He nodded to a wall space between the two windows close to me.

  I got up and checked the thermometer.

  'Something's wrong with your system. It's seventy-two. Where's the thermostat?'

  'In the gallery outside.'

  'Well, if it gets any hotter you'll have all your guests here melting on you.'

  He grinned and drank another glass of champagne.

  I lit a cigarette, and glanced out of the window, and was rewarded with a sunny world in which nothing stirred except a pair of blackbirds kicking up soil in a worm search on one of the garden beds.

  Kermode and O'Dowda refreshed themselves with champagne, and I sat smoking, one sticky hand holding the gun across my knees, and thought about the closed steel doors. Durnford was crazy. What he hell was the point of shutting us all in here? In fact, if he'd known that it was going to help O'Dowda, then he would never have done it — because O'Dowda was the man he hated. Then, why the hell be content to go off just leaving us all locked in? It was like throwing a snowball at a tank as far as O'Dowda was concerned. He really was crazy — yet crazy or not he was basically an intelligent man and intelligence did not just disappear in a mad moment of hatred. Usually it reinforced the crazy action. He didn't have a very high opinion of me — largely because he thought that I'd failed him in mucking up O'Dowda's plans. But he didn't hate me as he hated O'Dowda. He'd advised me not to come in this room and see O'Dowda.